


(I Don't) Want You to Know

by Transom (ThegoodshipRickyl)



Series: Clash Slash Trash [1]
Category: The Clash
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, He tries anyway, Joe is hurting, M/M, Mick is a good boyfriend, Past Sexual Abuse, but he tries too hard to be strong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 14:04:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6379000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThegoodshipRickyl/pseuds/Transom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mick wants to understand; Joe just wants to hide away</p>
            </blockquote>





	(I Don't) Want You to Know

Mick already knew about Joe's issues with vulnerability, but this was _ridiculous_. All he had done was try to make the man a cup of tea for God's sake, then lay him down in his bed for some much needed rest. Then he left to turn the lights off in the kitchen, and returned to find Joe sitting bolt upright on the edge of the bed with his mug between his hands and his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes downcast and his elbows tucked in tightly to his sides. Mick approached cautiously, pulling out a chair to sit on and gently nudging Joe's shin with his toe.

 

"Alright there?"

 

Joe nodded tersely and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "Yeah," he said shortly, looking up at Mick for a second before refocusing on his tea and squirming a little under Mick's gaze.

 

"Right," Mick replied. "Well. If it's all the same to you, I'm thinking about turning in for the night." He started to get up, not missing the way Joe sniffed and tensed up even more.

 

"Here?" he asked, leaning away from Mick when he started straightening out the blankets.

 

Mick paused, still bent over the bed. "Er, yeah?"

 

"Oh." Joe looked away nervously. "With, uh... with me?"

 

Mick blushed lightly and brushed a stray curl from out of his eyes. "Yeah, Joe. I'd like to, with you."

 

Joe took a shaky sip of tea and cleared his throat. "'Course. Yeah."

 

Mick fiddled with the edge of one of the blankets. "We don't have to. I mean...whatever."

 

"I just don't know, Mick." Joe's voice was a whisper. "It's different now."

 

"Yeah? Should it be? We always shared in those hotel rooms on tour, ya know?"

 

Joe nodded, swallowing thickly. "I know, but I wasn't thinking about it then. We weren't...y'know, it wasn't... _like_ that."

 

"I know," Mick said quietly. "But I don't understand.... You seem _afraid_ now."

 

The word hung in the air between them uncomfortably, and Mick could see Joe's hands start to tremble. His eyes closed and he was breathing shakily through his nose, and Mick had to take his tea from him before the mug slipped and crashed to the floor.

 

Joe's eyes flew open at Mick's gentle touch and he shrank away like a frightened animal. "'m sorry," he sputtered quickly. "I'll just go. Er, let me get my-"

 

"Joe, _what_?" Mick grabbed his arm as he stood up, feeling him freeze in his grip. "Is there something wrong?"

 

Joe let him pull him back down to the bed. "I can't say," he whispered, looking at Mick helplessly. "And you don't want to know, anyway."

 

Mick's brow furrowed and he let go of Joe's wrist. "Why do you think that? Why do you _always_ think that?"

 

"I..." Joe's voice seemed to get stuck in his throat and the look that he gave Mick plainly said _please don't make me do this_. He scooted back onto the bed until he was leaning against the wall with his knees pulled up to his chest. "It's just... some old memories being dragged up," he muttered. "'S got nothin' to do with you, just my stupid fucking problem. I still... I still love you, I just...can't-" He cut himself off to heave a deep sigh. "I'm sorry."

 

Mick blinked. His brain burned with a hundred questions, but all he could croak out was, "I love you, too." He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "I shouldn't press you, hm?"

 

Joe grunted. "Yeah, you should. But you probably shouldn't have to." He looked away ruefully. "I know I'm not doin' this right."

 

Mick cleared his throat and planted his hands on the bed. "Let's forget about it for now, yeah? You need more tea, don't you?"

 

Joe cracked a tiny grin. "Yeah, s'pose I do," he said softly, tucking his face into his knees so only his eyes were visible. Mick smiled fondly in return and patted his shin before leaving, feeling the need for a cigarette when he turned the kettle on.

 

The flat was completely quiet save for the sounds of Mick's calm smoking and the water hissing as it heated up, so he could clearly hear the sound of Joe padding down the hallway so he could go flip through Mick's records. He turned up in the kitchen with _Get Your Ya-Ya's Out_ held under his arm and started looking through Mick's cabinets for something to eat, finding nothing but a mostly empty bag of white rice, which he promptly set about cooking as Mick watched in amusement.

 

"You keep going like that, you're gonna turn _into_ a bowl of rice," he commented while idly opening a new packet of tea.

 

"Food of the people," was all Joe replied, holding up a fist.

 

The tea started going off, so Mick quickly put his cigarette back in his mouth and poured Joe's cup for him. Joe took it in exchange for the Stones record. Mick disappeared from the kitchen and soon music was filling up the small flat. When he came back Joe was singing under his breath and still waiting on his rice. Mick felt the urge to wrap his arms around him, a protective gesture he wasn't sure if Joe would be ready for, so he settled for watching him while leaning against the counter.

 

As soon as Joe's food had finished, they headed back to the bedroom, where Mick turned the record player down just enough so that they could talk. Joe resumed his earlier position against the wall, bowl balanced on his knees this time, while Mick took the desk chair, lighting another cigarette and crossing his legs, foot jiggling to the music.

 

Mick was afraid to pierce the silence, but it wasn't a completely comfortable one, and Joe was looking at him as he ate, expectant and wary at the same time. Mick took a deep breath, studying his cigarette as it dangled off the tips of his fingers.

 

"There was a man. At school." Joe's voice stilled him. He held his breath and tried not to lean forward when Joe continued, "And some of the other boys were afraid of him." Joe was pushing the last remnants of his rice around with his spoon. "I never understood why. He looked harmless, old, kinda small."

 

"A teacher?" Mick asked quietly.

 

Joe met his eyes and nodded. "I reckon he'd been there forever. Anyway, he seemed to have his eye on me in class. I liked the attention. At first, until it got...weird."

 

Mick's stomach lurched painfully. Again, he wanted to reach out and take Joe into his arms, but he was frozen to his chair, unable to speak.

 

When Joe's voice picked back up it was noticeably shaky and rough. "He asked me to stay after class a couple times. He, uh...he wasn't very gentle with me, y'know? But then at night he _was_ , and that was... _worse_. He would tell me to sneak out of bed and come up to his room. He said he just wanted to hold me." Joe had to stop to take a shuddering breath and Mick just stared at him, completely numb.

 

"Joe, I... I am _so_ sorry," he managed, but he was waved off before he could say any more.

 

" _Please_ , it's not...I shouldn't've bothered you with it, now everything will be fucked up-"

 

"How?" Mick demanded, cutting him off.

 

"It was _already_ fucked up, right from the beginning. You shouldn't've... bothered," Joe trailed off softly before murmuring, "With me."

 

"Don't _say_ that," Mick warned. "It doesn't change anything, okay?"

 

Joe wouldn't look at him, instead focusing on his bowl sitting next to him on the bed. "You're okay with me not trusting you?"

 

Mick thought about it for a second, trying to push past the brief sting of hurt. "Well... I mean, considering everything...yeah Joe, I suppose I _am_ okay with it. For now, anyway." Then, he added in a small but determined voice, "I won't stop trying with you."

 

Joe huffed a bitter laugh. "I shoulda figured you'd be stubborn about this."

 

Mick shrugged. "It comes with the territory, I suppose." He stared down at his hands. "Just tell me if I'm doing something wrong, yeah? Or if you're afraid... of anything."

 

Joe nodded. He sat still for a while, chewing his lip, before he picked up his dishes and got up from the bed. "Guess I should hit the road now, huh?"

 

Mick reached out to touch his arm, just a light press of fingers to the inside of his wrist. "You don't have to. Here, you take the bed. I'll take that," he instructed as he took the bowl and spoon. "And I'll just keep my chair here, alright?"

 

Joe rolled his eyes. "You don't have to do any of that," he protested tiredly. "I'll be _fine_."

 

"Joe, It's fucking _freezing_ out," Mick countered, before he caught himself. "Hang on. Is this one of those times when I should be fucking off?"

 

Joe snorted. "No. I'm okay." He paused for a moment as Mick stood up. "And if you want, you can... we can share. Er, just...just don't-"

 

"Got it," Mick said breezily, comforting him with a hand to his arm. "No funny business."

 

" _Well_..." Joe tilted his head and gave Mick a shy little grin before reaching up to kiss him. It wasn't firm, but it wasn't unsure either, and Mick could feel the tension leave Joe's shoulders where he held him. He let him go reluctantly so he could leave for the kitchen, then hurried back to his room, where Joe had already crawled into bed and buried himself under the blankets.

 

Mick turned off the record player and followed suit, careful to leave plenty of space between the two of them. They were facing each other, each with the blankets pulled up to their chins to ward off the chill. Joe's eyes were guarded as they looked at Mick from over his hands.

 

"Not so hard, right?" Mick offered hopefully. "Like all those times on tour, right?"

 

Joe nodded his head minutely. "Yeah," he mumbled.

 

"Do you want to talk? About whatever?"

 

"About _that_?" Joe corrected, and Mick winced.

 

"Sorry."

 

Joe seemed to ignore him. "He had a wife, you know. Grandkids too, 'bout my age."

 

" _Fuck_..." Mick breathed.

 

"He said if I told...if I told _anyone_ , he would make my life hell." Joe's eyes were flashing fire now, the way they did when he was onstage. "Problem was, I never woulda told anyway. Nobody woulda believed me, sayin' any of that about a real stand-up bloke like _him_."

 

Joe practically spit his words, and Mick noticed his eyes shining with tears that he was trying to fight back, sniffing and clenching his thumbnail hard between his front teeth. Mick reached out a hand, cautiously, and just barely brushed Joe's knuckles with his own. Joe choked on a sob as soon as felt the touch, and Mick, for the third time that night, wanted to haul him in and wrap his arms around him.

 

"I'm fucked _up_ , Mick," he croaked. "I'm _sorry_...."

 

Mick shushed him gently. "Please, _don't_. Just let me know if there's anything I can do, alright? Whatever it is."

 

Joe regarded him carefully. "Just stay there," he whispered, leaning in to kiss Mick, so softly it barely felt like it happened. Mick remained still as Joe scooted closer to him, pressing his hand against Mick's chest cautiously. He leaned in and nuzzled his face into Mick's throat, pushing his nose against his collarbone and breathing in.

 

"Joe?" Mick whispered against his forehead. His hand hovered over Joe's shoulder questioningly and Joe shivered before nodding and scrunching himself up a little smaller to fit better against Mick.

 

Mick didn't push any further, careful not to touch with more than his hand against Joe's back or his lips against Joe's forehead. He was relieved to eventually feel Joe grow warm and calm next to him. "Go to sleep, yeah?" he murmured, giving Joe's shoulder a squeeze and hearing his deep, contented breath. A few minutes later, he felt Joe's body relax completely with sleep and let himself drift off too, looking forward to the morning, when he could see Joe wake up beside somebody who truly loved him.


End file.
